Dimensions Only I Know
by Checkered Candles
Summary: "1,2 Freddy's coming for you." I panted heavily, giving ragged breaths, and then pushed open the door violently. "3,4. Better lock your door." I was going to find that girl and kill her. Dismember her. Destroy her. Get her out of this world. "5,6. Grab your crucifix." As I walked in, I wanted to die. "7,8. Gonna stay up late." Dolls, dolls, everywhere! - "9,10. Never wake again."


**Hey! Hehe this story was actually my language arts project xD we were getting inspired by Edgar Allen Poe. you know, the death and raven spooky guy whose loved ones all died of tuberculosis and he kept getting drunk and was suspected of possibly carrying rabies? Well, I was sorta picturing Nagi and Rima while writing this. Actually, it originally got inspired by Nu'est, my FAVORITE KPOP GROUP OF ALLLLL TIME! hehe**

**Minhyun- Baekho asked me what I thought of Ren so this is what I told him: He's like a creepy porcelain doll sitting on a shelf staring and waiting to murder you.**

**Baekho- He begged me not to tell Ren, even bribed me with food, but I told him anyway. *troll face***

**Ren- Creepy porcelain doll? Oh I'm going to set fire to his precious hair tonight! **

**HAHAHAHAHA so that beautiful scene by the most gorgeous band inspired this horror story. or the storyboard, at least. then nagi and rima contributed as i thought about them xD **

**Enjoy! And yes. They are very twisted up personality wise in here.**

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The world in which we live in is a silly world. A silly world full of gullible humans destroying the earth while thinking life is so precious. A hypocritical world. I speak with derision because, honestly, just how precious is life? Just how is it more pleasant than death? Besides the pain of dying, in my opinion, it isn't. It simply isn't. Day by day, my oh-so-precious life flies by with me passing my time in this dreary world painting. Stroke by stroke, brush by brush. The colors blend and swirl, and even though no one but me understands the strange dimension I'd created, people buy it. Hah, they aren't aware that half the paintings they buy from me are about plummeting and dying and screaming and hell.

It isn't my fault for being this way, the blame is on my parents. However, they're dead. Hah, long dead. From what, you ask? From me, that's what. They were ruining me; I kept on seeing, hearing, feeling things I didn't want to. Whenever they talked, I saw bright orange and purple streaks. Whenever they laughed, spikey explosions arose from the corner of my eye, like fireworks. Whenever they yelled, I felt a dark gray sensation, like I was drowning. The taste of salty water still lingers on my tongue. I could even feel the urgency from their gesticulations which brought vexing visions. Whether hallucinations of true, it mattered not.

Because of that, I decided one day I really could not handle it anymore. It was a horrid experience, exterminating your own family, but it had to be done. My mind would've gone wild. When the the gruesome deed had been carried out, I'm ashamed to say I felt satisfied. It was peaceful, and the irritating colors and noises had died down tremendously. The bodies were disposed of with ease; I merely wrapped them up in many layers and drove miles and miles out into the unknown before dumping them to be decomposed. I suppose the one nice thing about my parents was that they weren't very social and outgoing, so no one was all that suspicious of their absence.

As the front door opened with a creak, a small girl entered. Her long, bouncy ringlets spilled over the frills and ruffles on her dress. She smiled a bright smile, eyes wandering over my paintings happily. I merely gave her a grimace in return. However, a customer was a customer no matter how small. "How may I help you, madam?" The child's eyes flickered and then met mine.

"It's okay." She replied, "I don't want anything here." I was surprised by her audacity, and conveniently, I felt a stinging sensation as if the girl's words had slapped me across the face. My eyes narrowed.

"Oh? Is that so? Are my pictures so dissatisfying?" A dangerous smile, almost a sneer, lay across my face now.

"The flowers are ugly. They're too dark and scary." Her voice was high pitched, as a young girl's-or any child for that matter-should be. A ripple of pale yellow washed out in the corner of my vision and I blinked several times until it finally disappeared.

"Really? Then, what do you like?" Perhaps I should just kick this girl out. Her voice was bothering me, like my parents' had.

"...Dolls." Dolls? Dolls? The phobia and bane of my life, dolls were. Immediately, red flares streaked across my vision. I felt sick, almost like I was choking, and stumbled backwards violently. "Are you okay?" Was I okay? This child must be joking! Was she provoking me intentionally? I glanced out the window, and the pale moon seemed to glance back. It was so pale it looked almost ill. The soft light rays illuminated the child's ringlets, making them look strangely stony. I gave the girl a wary glance.

"Yes, yes, perfectly alright. I do suggest you leave here, dear, for your own good, as well as mine. It's getting late anyway." I mumbled, holding my forehead. Footsteps grew fainter and the old door closed again. Finally, I could contain my frustration no longer. I made a distressed noise that seemed like a cross between a groan and a scream. (Of course, I really had no good reason to go blaming the child for all my aggravating problems, but I made her the scapegoat anyway.) It was so vexing, so irritating, so...so provoking! Rage and annoyance clouded my mind; this child was just like my parents. She made me see, hear, feel things I didn't want to. Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and rushed out the door, searching for that little girl.

The silhouette of her figure stretched and bent, distorted, as the little girl passed by streetlights. I stalked her shrewdly, silently, stealthily, all the way until we reached a huge structure. It was big, but old. The majority of the paint had chipped off, revealing the rotting wood underneath. Window shutters were cracked and hanging, glass shards surrounding the building. I suppose it could be perceived as a Victorian home, from its style of architecture. I stared, it seemed to look over me in the dark dreary night. The girl walked up the steps and slowly entered the house. Flashes of gray clouded my vision and I heard a ticking noise, like that of a watch-or a deathwatch, I thought, amused.

I followed ensuite,unsure of my intentions still. However, reaching the front door while standing on the creaky stair, I heard singing. "1... 2. Freddy's coming for you." It was high pitched, and the lyrics I did not understand. However, the song brought a whirl of colors and screechy sound effects storming through my mind.

It was hell.

"3...4. Better lock your door."

I panted heavily, giving ragged breaths, and then pushed open the door violently. I was going to find that girl and kill her. Dismember her. Destroy her. Get her out of this world.

"5...6. Grab your crucifix." I struggled to block out the noise, but I managed to walk in steadily. Immediately, I wanted to die. I heard an alarm go through my ears, and felt that drowning, dark, gray sensation. Dolls. Dolls. Everywhere. Porcelain dolls surrounded me, sitting on rows and rows of shelves on the walls. They all had ringlets, perfect and bouncy, not a strand out of place. They all had frilly, ruffle dresses with lace and ribbon. They all wore that fake, happy looking smile as if life was a fantasy.

Their heads all seemed to turn upon my arrival, making me see a red streak in the corner of my eye. I could feel my own heart's pulsation. Hear it, too. Their fake, artificial eyes bore into me, and I found myself staring into black, never ending death pits. I twitched and started panting, gasping for breaths. I stifled a scream. Look away, look away! But I found I couldn't.

"7...8. Gonna stay up late."

A rainbow of colors flashed before me. Whistles, the barking of a dog, waves crashing, all these strange sounds surrounded me and I found I could only see the plastic blue eyes. I couldn't see anything but the blue eyes. Staring, blinking, how is it doing so when artificial? I felt adrenaline surge through me. I felt my blood rushing. How, when I felt my breathing waning?

"9...10. Never sleep again."

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**Twisted, isn't it? hehe and if you're wondering why i didn't put any names in this story, it's because my LA teacher would've been a bit confused... xD Well, this is my one shot and I kinda posted it up here to tell you all I'm still alive and I'm not ditching fanfiction ^^ i'm just a little busy with sports and crap. love you all!**

**PS (edit) i forgot to mention, nagi has synesthesia xD explaining the crazy color/sound hallucinations **

**~Lolly-chaaaan OUT! :) **


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